


All My Science is Wrong

by atomicchronicle



Series: All My ___ is ___ [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: AU, April Fools' Day, Bad Puns, Character Death, Cussing, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Halloween, Headcanon, Random & Short, Science Fiction, Speculation, Superheroes, implied sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-02 17:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 14,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2821046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atomicchronicle/pseuds/atomicchronicle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little one-shots about anything I dare to dream happening in the DC universe.</p><p>I've added more labels within the one-shots for a little more context. Hopefully.<br/>Chapter 21 - Wrath of Savitar (may contain spoilers)<br/>Chapter 22 - Haunted Lies (may contain spoilers)<br/>Chapter 23 - Happy Little Trees<br/>Chapter 24 - Black Canary (may contain spoilers)<br/>Chapter 25 - The Legend of Leonard Snart</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Quicksilver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Quicksilver. This is based off a variation of Wells with superpowers and the team knows about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Harrison Wells, Cisco, Caitlin, super powers, AU, bad pun

“Did you loose a bet with someone?” Cisco asked.

“Excuse me?” Dr. Wells asked.

“You're a little...gray,” Cisco said, motioning to Dr. Wells' hair. Caitlin came around, grin on her face. She held out a compact to him. He took it, raising it to look at his hair. The reflection showed a silvery streak down one side of his head.

“I want to try out this naming thing,” Caitlin said. “How about Quicksilver!”

Dr. Wells laughed. “Marvel would shit themselves.”

“Marvel?” Caitlin asked. Dr. Wells shook his head.

“I'm not letting you name me Quicksilver,” Dr. Wells said. “End of story.”


	2. Rats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Dr. Wells experiments with Barry's DNA on animals.
> 
> Assumes that Dr. Wells is a normal guy who doesn't have access to the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Cisco, Caitlin, Harrison, Barry, super powers, meta-animals, animal expiramentation
> 
> Also, if you have a prompt for me, let me know. I'd be happy to try to write something.

Caitlin's shriek drew them to Dr. Well's private section of the lab.

Cisco and Barry stopped, not sure what to make of the scene. Dr. Wells had a quarantine-like setup. Glass walls with thick seals. A double set of doors allowed for a person to catch something before it escaped. In this case, it was Caitlin trapped in the closet space with little white blurs.

Dr. Wells sat in the main section, glasses removed, bridge of his nose pinched. The far wall appeared to have been covered in cages until something had toppled them all, releasing quite a few white streaks and two brown blurs, a black blur, and and orange blur. There were bloody smears across the floor.

“What the hell?” Barry demanded. Dr. Wells turned his chair. On his lap was a large Siamese tabby cat, curled into a ball. The wheelchair rolled towards the little microphone speaker. Dr. Wells leaned in.

“I may have spliced Barry's DNA in to some paralyzed rats,” Dr. Wells said. “And some cats from a kill shelter.”

“Again, what the hell?” Barry asked.

“Dude, it worked,” Cisco said.

“Months of work, gone. I had four generations of rats! And these ungrateful bastards just ate them!” Dr. Wells said, yelling at the darker blurs. The orange cat stopped, rubbing up against Dr. Wells' leg. He glared at the tomcat, fuming.

“Should we help Caitlin?” Cisco asked.

“She's fine,” Dr. Wells said. “If you open that door, those subjects will get out and breed with normal rats at an accelerated rate. Which will in turn cause a plague of super-rats. Please leave her in there. Mittens will deal with them.”

“Mittens?” Barry and Cisco asked. Dr. Wells pointed to the cat in his lap. The cat opened one blue eye of judgment. Finding nothing of worth, Mittens shut her eye.

“Can we help with anything?” Cisco asked.

“Go buy litter,” Dr. Wells said. “Lots of litter.”


	3. Saved by the Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Cisco + Snow (I like “snowcone”. Anyone?) This is based off of a holiday party pre-accelerator explosion. Also written under the assumption that Cisco arrived at Star before Caitlin (which turned out to be wrong).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Christmas, Caitlin, Cisco, Ronnie, party, Cisco/Caitlin

Dr. Wells loved Christmas.

There was nothing more he seemed to love than the Christmas season. If it was a holiday near Christmas, he'd celebrate that, too. It was as though he saved up his childlike exuberance all year long, unleashing it come Black Friday.

So of course he forced everyone to come to his holiday parties. Caitlin had managed to opt out last year – sprained ankle. Dr. Wells had sent her a basket of Christmas-themed cookies. This year, she'd made the mistake of not catching a cold or answering “I'm busy Saturday night”. So there she was, dressed in red and gold, wishing the music would stop.

“Some party, right?”

Caitlin turned to the guy next to her. He was a shorter guy from the technology department – like the cute guy, Ronnie Raymond. In the office, he wore t-shirts and hoodies, ate lollipops and wore his hair long. She'd written him off as another overgrown child. Now he had his hair slicked back and was in a reasonable dark blue suit. It hugged his figure, revealing that he was more trim than his baggy clothes suggested.

“I guess,” Caitlin said.

“Not really a Christmas person?” he asked.

“It's not that I don't like Christmas,” Caitlin said. “It's just I like it in moderation.”

“Were you here last year? Dr. Wells gives away amazing gifts in the raffle,” he said. “Great food, great drinks, intelligent company. Ignoring the blow-up snowman on the lawn, I'd say it's a pretty good party.”

Caitlin looked around. Everyone was dressed much nicer than they did at work, which she appreciated. And the champagne was good – a good balance of sweet with dry. She'd nibbled a little, and the food hadn't been bad. She hadn't thought of it like that. And the decorations weren't awful. The only eyesore was the snowman on the lawn.

“Caitlin Snow, biology department,” she said, holding out her hand. The man took it.

“Cisco Ramon, technology department,” he said.

“What sort of gifts does he give away?” Caitlin asked.

“Well, there are the usual suspects – giftcards, cameras, iPods, and tablets. Then he throws in stuff like spa days and tickets to concerts,” Cisco said. “Last year I got a VIP ticket to see Metallica.”

“I wouldn't mind a spa day,” Caitlin mused, tracing the rim of her glass. There was a pause. “What projects are you working on right now? I mean, apart from the particle accelerator.”

“I've been working in prostheses,” Cisco said. “Especially ones that are low-tech low-cost. I've come up with a couple designs that are really promising.”

“Somehow I pictured you more as a programmer type. Or a guy who built really high-tech stuff,” Caitlin said. “I mean, I've seen you at work a few times.” She didn't mention that she only noticed him because of Ronnie. She desperately wished she were talking to that built man. Caitlin wanted to be washed in the glow of his smile. Maybe suggest that they go back to her place for a nightcap.

“Programming is nice. I'm good at it. But some projects are a little more personal than others,” Cisco said. “My cousin lost her right hand. She can't afford any of the moving prostheses on the market. But she can afford a plastic hand that uses the movements of her forearm to move.”

Caitlin's fantasizing about Ronnie Raymond dried up. Cisco Ramon's gaze wasn't downcast as he spoke of his cousin. He looked up at the strings of lights on the ceiling, a light smile on his face. This was a man who wanted to make a positive impact in the world, and he was happy with the things he'd done so far. This man was truly good.

Cisco was light in a way that filled Caitlin's heart with a warmth. He had this force of optimism that infected her, made her believe that she could find a simple solution to curing cancer or HIV. He gave her a smile.

“Hey, Cisco!” Ronnie said, putting himself between Cisco and Caitlin. “How's the party?” Cisco drained his glass.

“A little dry for me,” Cisco said, giving the glass a second look. “But pretty spectacular. Did Dr. Wells pull out the mistletoe?”

“Not yet,” Ronnie said.

“Mistletoe?” Caitlin asked. Ronnie chuckled.

“Dr. Wells pulls out mistletoe on a stand and places it around the party between couples,” Ronnie explained. “It doesn't matter what gender you are. Two people standing together are going to be made to kiss.”

“Stay in groups of three if you don't want to have to kiss a coworker,” Cisco warned. “Oh, and watch the door as you leave. He sneaks some up there before people leave.”

“Is Dr. Wells...is he okay?” Caitlin asked. “He seems really, _really_ into Christmas.”

“Have you ever noticed that we never celebrate his birthday in the office?” Ronnie asked. “Everyone else gets a card and a little song in the break room at lunch. But Dr. Wells never celebrates. Which means that he's got a birthday on a national holiday. Add in his god complex, and Harrison Wells was born on the twenty-fifth of December.”

A man in a black suit passed by, setting down a stand. Caitlin snickered.

“What?” Cisco asked. Caitlin pointed. The two men looked up. A stand perched behind them, mistletoe dangling from it.

“Damnit!” Ronnie muttered. Around them, people started to chant 'kiss'. Caitlin chuckled, moving closer to the two men, giving each a kiss on the cheek. The crowd cooed, returning to their conversations.

“Saved by the Snow,” Cisco said, winking.

 

Caitlin paused in the foyer.

There it was, the mistletoe hanging from the door frame.

“It was really sweet of you to do that for them,” Dr. Wells said.

“They're really nice guys,” Caitlin said. “Cisco especially. I didn't know we were working on prostheses.”

“It's a mini-project,” Dr. Wells said. “I scraped together the money for it in the budget. Did you like your raffle gift?”

“Metallica tickets?” Caitlin asked. “Not really my thing.”

“Hm,” Dr. Wells said. “I think Cisco got tickets to a spa. Perhaps the two of you should trade.” Caitlin nodded, taking cautious steps towards the door.

“It was a lovely party,” she said. “Good night, Dr. Wells.”

“Happy holidays,” he replied. Caitlin made her way out into the snow. The instant her foot hit the walk to the driveway, her heel took that opportunity to loose traction. She slipped, landing on something squishy. Realizing that she was laying on a person, Caitlin scrambled to get up.

“I'm so sorry!” she said. She'd fallen on none other than Cisco Ramon.

“I think you fell for me,” Cisco laughed, getting up. He dusted snow off his pants. “Are you okay?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Caitlin said. “Are you okay?”

“Well, I might need your number. You know, for insurance reasons,” Cisco said. “Kidding. I'm full of cheesy jokes and pickup lines. And don't laugh, you'll only encourage me.”

Caitlin chewed her lip, glancing up. Ronnie was still on the steps, fishing his keys from his pockets. And in that moment, Caitlin made her choice.

“Only if you don't call me about insurance,” Caitlin said. “Or about work.”

“Excuse me?” Cisco asked, a little confused.

“You can only have my number if you don't call me about insurance or work,” Caitlin said.

“Then why would I call you?” Cisco asked.

“To ask me what I'm doing this Friday at six,” Caitlin said, pulling a pen from her purse. “And to see if I need a ride.” She picked up his hand from his side, scrawling her number on his palm.

“And call sometime tomorrow,” Caitlin said. “The whole waiting three days is stupid.” She walked off knowing she'd made the right choice.


	4. You Knew Her All Along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Barry finds a familiar steamer trunk in the attic.
> 
> Btw, Catonsville is a real place located in Maryland. This is an exploration of who Wells might've been - a headcannon I had that was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Barry, Christmas, Eddie/Iris mentioned, AU

“Go get the Christmas decorations, Barry,” Barry muttered rebelliously. “It'll be fun, Barry. We'll decorate it together, Barry.”

Barry wiped the spider webs from his shirt. Okay, he was being a bit bitchy. But Iris had promised that her dating Eddie wouldn't change their relationship. They'd still deck the halls and all that good stuff. OD on Christmas music and sugar cookies. Waste themselves on Grandma Ester's egg nogg (well, Iris would. Barry would spike his with a special concoction Caitlin and Dr. Wells had cooked up).

He lifted a box, causing a shift in Mt. Cardboard. At this point, he was too tired to care. The mountain fell, narrowly missing him. Barry sighed. What was the point? Iris wasn't even down stairs to help decorate. She was somewhere with Eddie, making eyes at him. Probably skating and then going to get gingerbread hot cocoas, taking yet another one of their traditions from him.

A familiar brown shape drew Barry's eye, bringing his anger to a halt. It was like someone switching off a light or smashing into a pole.

The steamer trunk had once stood in his parents' bedroom, covered in a maroon cloth. Barry remembered sitting on it and looking up, watching his mother at her vanity, getting ready for the day. Then she'd turn to him, lipsticked smile waiting for him.

He stepped over the fallen Mt. Cardboard. He knelt. It seemed so...small. He caressed the wood. His hand came up filthy with the years lost since he'd last seen it. Barry wiped his hand on his pants.

He'd always wondered what was inside the trunk, but he'd never thought to open it when he was a child. He pressed the lid up. It stayed.

Inside were all sorts of things. Photo albums. His baby blanket. Some seashells. Journals. Barry pulled out a high school yearbook. He flipped through it, looking for his mother. Nora Dupont. Pre-Allen. Pre-Barry. Nora Dupont of Catonsville High School.

His hand froze on a page. He let out a bit of air. His mother had been in the Science Club. But not only that, she had two people she appeared to be very close to, a boy and girl. Nora Dupont had her arms around them both, and they grinned at the camera, looking thick as thieves in front of their project.

Barry didn't recognize the woman. She was a pretty dark-haired girl with a wide smile. Her head was tilted towards the young man in the picture. Her thick-rimmed glasses, however, he felt were very, very familiar.

The young man was the spitting image of one Dr. Harrison Wells. The black and white photo didn't show colors, but those eyes were ever so pale. That frame - tall and thin. And Dr. Wells' fashion sense of tight black long-sleeves was evident. Only, the name listed below was Harold Morgan. That, and he wore no glasses at all. But that face. That smile. Those eyes.

Barry snapped the yearbook shut. He curled into himself, blurring around the edges.


	5. Cavity Search

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Barry goes to the dentist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Barry

Dr. Joyner snapped her gloves on.

“How are we doing, Barry?” she asked, rolling over. Barry's heart raced. He glanced at the implements to his left. Why did they all look so sharp and pointy?

“G-good,” he stuttered.

“It's been a while since you came here,” Dr. Joyner said. “I hear you were in a coma.”

“Yeah,” he said, bobbing his head too fast. “Thought I should start my twice a year again.”

“Good to hear,” Dr. Joyner said. “Let's lean you back and take a peek, shall we?” The chair began to lower. Barry shut his eyes, praying that he didn't have anything serious. No cavities. No cracks.

“Any unusual pains?” Dr. Joyner asked. The hygienist handed over what appeared to be an implement for stabbing out eyes.

“N-no,” Barry said.

“Are you okay?” Dr. Joyner asked. “You're really tense.”

“Uh, well, patients who wake from comas can have a wide variety of issues,” Barry said, words coming out in a rush. “I just so happen to have developed anxiety. Especially in medical settings.”

“Okay,” Dr. Joyner said. “Well, I want remind you that I've been your dentist for twelve years. We've never had a problem so far. We'll take this slow. Hold up your hand if you need a break. Does that sound good?”

Barry nodded. Dr. Joyner had always been good with skittish patients. That's why Joe had picked her as his dentist twelve years ago. It's why she was so popular. Her voice had this relaxing quality to it. She was confident in her abilities, but not cocky.

Barry opened his mouth. She peered in, poking around. It was all routine. The same tink of metal against tooth as she counted his teeth, scraping off calcified plaque. She poked his gums a bit, tutting. It was probably nothing serious. He hadn't flossed for nine months. There had to be residual damage from that.

She pulled away.

“Well, I've got bad news and bad news,” Dr. Joyner said, stripping off her gloves. “The bad news is that your gums are inflamed. You haven't been flossing, and it's showing. There's a mouthwash I want you to use. It'll help reduce the damage already done.”

“And the other bad news?” Barry asked. Dr. Joyner pulled her mask down.

“Well, your gums pulled away enough from your teeth that it left an anomaly in your enamel open. You've got a cavity,” Dr. Joyner said. “You can schedule with Brinna up front on when you want that fixed.”

“Um, what if my doctors don't want me using Novocain?” Barry asked. “Or pretty much any pain killer right now?”

Dr. Joyner pursed her lips for a moment. “I know a hypnotherapist some patients go to. Brinna can give you his number.” Barry groaned, smashing his hands into his face. Fantastic.


	6. Just One Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Dr. Wells has real paralysis, no access to the future. In this one, Dr. Wells has a made-up twin brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to CWMaddy. Because we should encourage one another. Because we should be kind to everyone, including ourselves. Because sometimes the things we think are stupid mean a lot to someone else. :)
> 
> Tags: Harrison, Joe, Harrison & Joe, paralysis, injured, friendship, AU

Useless. Pathetic. A joke. Screwup. Failure.

  
Harrison never thought the adjectives he'd used to describe Hansen would ever be applicable to himself. Night and day. Polar opposites. The only thing they had in common was DNA. Everything else was different. Harrison preferred jazz and classical. Hansen preferred rock and metal. Harrison had gone to college, gotten a job, even married. Hansen had gotten out of high school, started dealing, and even spent a year or two in jail. Hansen had never killed anyone. Not on accident. Not on purpose.

 _Who's the golden child now?_ Harrison thought bitterly. His view from the floor made him reconsider the cleaning crew. They swept around the main parts of the floor, but not under the desks.

He hadn't thought he'd really outweigh his chair, much less be able to topple it. It had a hefty battery beneath it, acting both to power his chair and as a counter weight. So when he'd reached for the papers on the desk, he hadn't considered that he'd tip over. He'd broken something in his left shoulder.

 _And here I thought I couldn't sink any lower. Oh, rock bottom, the view from below is so lovely_ , Harrison thought. No legs. Only one arm. His cell phone was out of reach – left on the desk. And, of course, the screen on his chair had cracked in the fall, turning black, a spiderweb.

For the past four Christmases, Harrison hadn't gone home. Why bother? His mother was too far gone to remember that she had children. His father would call his work 'rocket science' and ask why Harrison hadn't remarried. And Hansen would arrive sober and stay that way for maybe an hour, tops. Harrison would watch his father smoke while the old man talked about Hansen's glory days on the football team, leaving out the pressure he'd put on the older twin, forcing him to do well.

All the people who'd surrounded him when he stood on the brink of genius had abandoned him – tossed him away like a used tissue. Only Cisco and Caitlin remained. He didn't remember the last time he'd been invited to a banquet or charity fundraiser. Didn't recall when he'd last been called upon to join a group for a night on the town.

Harrison hadn't gone on a date in fourteen years. Not since Tess passed. He couldn't bear the idea of having to compare Tess and another woman. Couldn't bear the idea of touching someone else, for fear he'd forget Tess. The way she'd sweep her hair back and smile. He couldn't even bring himself to throw her glasses away, choosing to wear them himself. To attempt to see the world as she had – the brighter side of things.

No family. No friends. No love. No mobility. All he had was a run-down lab and a similar reputation. And now he was the star of those emergency pendant ads. Forty-five and in need of one of those. Next thing he'd need was assisted living. Perish the thought.

“Hello?” Detective West called.

“Help!” Harrison called, voice breaking. His throat was sore from calling when the crash had first happened. The detective rushed to his side.

“Are you hurt?” Joe asked.

“My shoulder,” Harrison said. “I broke it. I may have a concussion. Mild bruising on my left side.”

“I'll call an ambulance,” Joe said. He was about to retreat, but Harrison grabbed his arm.

“Don't go,” Harrison whispered. “Don't leave me.”

Joe stayed kneeling. “Of course. You're gunna be just fine, Dr. Wells.” He pulled his phone out, dialing. Harrison's grip on Joe's arm relaxed. Perhaps he was wrong. Maybe there was one friend in the world for Harrison Wells.


	7. Christmas Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Potential spoilers for those who haven't seen all of season 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set right after Barry confesses in the mid-season. Happy Christmas!
> 
> Tags: Barry, Iris, Barry/Iris, love confession, AU

“I'll go now,” Barry said, getting up.

“Sit. Down,” Iris growled. It was the voice her mother had used to get naughty children back in line. Barry responded in kind, flopping back down on the couch, leaning away from Iris. A furrow rested between her eyebrows.

“How could you?” she said. “All those years of me traipsing down the hallway in practically nothing, all those 'oops, I didn't think you were naked' moments, and junior prom. Really Barry? At first I thought 'Barry is gay'. But you weren't going after guys. But then you weren't going after girls, either. So I figured you were asexual. And at least if I couldn't have you, no one else was getting you, either.”

Her outburst sank in.

“Wait. You came into my room while I was dressing because...?” Barry asked. Iris rolled her eyes, moving in closer.

“What was I wearing when I came in?” Iris asked. Barry tried to recall. Usually her flannel nightshirts that...barely covered her legs at all. Those long, gorgeous caramel legs. Heat prickled in his neck.

“What about...Morgan and Renee and Felicity?” Barry asked. “You've tried to set me up a lot.”

“I wanted to be confident that you weren't interested in anyone,” Iris said.

Barry sanded his palms together, seeing their relationship so differently. How Iris liked to throw her legs on top of his when they were watching a movie together. Her constant touches and caresses. All of her warm smiles. There was just one thing amiss.

“And Eddie?” Barry asked.

Iris chewed her lip. “When you were in the coma, you kept dying. I kept thinking of what my life would be without you. I wasn't sure that if you didn't pull through...that I wouldn't. Eddie was a warm body at night. Someone to distract me while you were gone.”

“Then why didn't you break up with him the moment I woke up?” Barry asked.

“I guess I thought I'd loose you if I told you,” Iris said. “And I'm afraid that I might be.”

Barry turned, taking her face in his hands. He leaned in, feeling her peppermint breath wash over his face. Her eyes were closed, expectantly. He brushed her cheek with his lips, tracing a line to her ear.

“Well, you better break up with your boyfriend if you don't want to loose me,” Barry murmured, pulling away. Iris leaned into his hands. She opened her eyes, pout forming.

“Can you wait ten minutes while I call him?” she asked. Barry laughed.

“Eddie's a nice guy,” he said, getting up. “Meet him.” Iris leaned back, watching Barry leave. He grinned to himself like the cat that ate the canary.


	8. Ambulance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Barry and Iris get in a crash. Barry gets hurt badly. Iris not so bad. Barry has healing. An ambulance is on the way. The couple can't contact anyone. Iris doesn't know about Barry's powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Barry, Iris, injury, super healing, car crash

Not again, Iris panicked.

She should've insisted on driving. Barry didn't have good reflexes. He fell asleep easily if someone made him sit for more than an hour. It was one of the things that drew him to forensics – you had to move around in a lab. You couldn't just sit there and have everything right in front of you.

Now he bled from his neck, looking less like he was sleeping and more like he was dying.

It was so much worse than watching him die over and over in Star Labs. At least in the lab he wasn't bleeding over everything. He wasn't actively dying. He had doctors constantly watching him. Always monitoring him.

Barry stirred. He opened his eyes.

“Iris?” he asked.

“Barry, don't move,” Iris said. “We were in an accident. Barry, you're hurt. I-I called a hospital. They're thirty minutes out.” He reached up, touching the wound on his neck.

“Did you happen to describe my wounds to them?” Barry asked, inspecting the blood on his hand.

“I didn't have time,” Iris sniffled. “My phone died. And yours is god knows where.” Barry picked up a piece of technology. It looked like someone had shattered it with a hammer.

“Listen, Iris, I'm fine,” Barry said. “You can calm down.” Just fine? He had a cut in his neck, a bruise on his head, a glass shard in his shoulder, and his left arm looked broken. Obviously he'd forgotten about biology. Or he was trying to placate her while he came up with a Miguiver-type plan.

Barry chewed his lip. He looked her over.

“How are you?” he asked. “Like, damage report.”

“Just a bump on the head,” Iris said. “You put your arm out to stop me from hitting my airbag too hard.” It was the fastest she'd ever seen a person move. Well, except maybe the Flash. But that was so much faster.

“Listen, Iris, I can't go to the hospital,” Barry said.

What? He practically lived at Star Labs now. And now he didn't want to go to a hospital? Had he developed a phobia? Did people just do that? She didn't exactly know if that was possible.

“It's okay, Barry, I'll be right there,” Iris said. “I won't let them do anything to you that you're not comfortable with.”

Barry looked at her for a long time. As the silence increased, Iris felt her heart pick up the pace. His green eyes bore into her. Finally, after what felt like hours, he spoke.

“Iris, I can't go to the hospital,” Barry said. He reached up with his right hand, wiping away the crusted blood on his neck. Iris was too late to stop him. Too late to keep him from causing himself to bleed out. There was no wound. And, now that she looked, his forehead was free of bruising.

What?

“Barry, what? How-?” she gasped. Then she stopped. All that time at Star Labs.

“You're a meta-human,” she whispered. “You're like a super-healer or something. Star Labs is studying you, aren't they?”

“Yeeeeaaaaaah,” Barry said, stretching out the one-syllable word into several. “Hey, Iris, can I have you do something for me?”

“What's that?” Iris asked. How did his power work? When had it happened? Why hadn't he told her?

“Well, first I need you to grab the tire iron and crowbar,” he said. “They should be behind my seat in a bag.” Iris reached over. She did as she was asked.

“I need you to take out the tire iron and crowbar,” Barry said. “Then take the scissors inside and cut off the bag's strap.” Iris wondered what he was up to. She was his hands, doing as he requested. Barry positioned the two iron tools parallel to each other. He lay his left arm between them.

“I need you to take my hand,” he said. “And shut your eyes.”

 

Barry watched Iris vomit out the broken window. He wrapped his arm with the bag strap, careful to avoid the little shards of glass embedded there. He plucked them out as he went, but there were a lot.

Iris wiped her mouth on her sleeve.

“That was...something,” she said weakly.

“I heal so fast – I didn't want to have to re-break my arm later,” Barry said. “I'm sorry you had to see that. I told you to shut your eyes.”

“You can't go to the hospital because then they'll find out that you're a meta-human,” Iris said. “And you're afraid they'll what – study you like Star Labs?”

“That General Eiling of the army will experiment on me like he did with another meta-human,” Barry said. “He tortured her, Iris. And when things didn't go his way, he killed her. She didn't have any family to exploit. I do.”

That seemed to sink in.

“I can care for myself,” Iris said. “And my dad-”

The sirens closed in.

“You have to back me up when I refuse medical treatment,” Barry said hurriedly. “Maybe I have a phobia of hospitals and ambulances or something.”

Iris nodded, tears in her eyes.


	9. Brothers Grimm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Wells has a twin brother, Hansen, who comes to visit.
> 
> This is based off my story Just One Friend. I just kept thinking of Hansen and what sort of dynamic was in the Morgan household.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Harrison, Caitlin, Cisco, Barry, original male character, AU

Caitlin nearly cried when she saw him. Standing. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, poking over some of Cisco's designs.

“Dr. Wells?” Caitlin asked, tears coating her voice. He turned. He almost looked like a different person without his glasses. A little younger maybe. A little less jaded.

“Excuse me?” he asked. He glanced around. “Are you addressing me?”

“That is your name,” Caitlin said. “You're...you're out of your chair. How?” Dr. Wells looked highly confused. Caitlin noted that he had a slight east coast accent. It was ever so light.

Cisco walked in. When he saw Dr. Wells, he nearly dropped the tray of tools in his hands.

“Dr. Wells, you're out of your chair!” he exclaimed. “Ohmigod, was it a biological modification? Or a prosthetic? Was it my prosthetic? Please say I won.”

“Listen-,” Dr. Wells said.

Barry stepped in.

“No chair!” Barry cried. “That's awesome! And no glasses. Just in time to go out and pick up some ladies-”

“SHUT UP!” Dr. Wells bellowed. The three of them silenced. Dr. Wells rubbed his temples.

“So the three of you dweebs are telling me that there's a man who looks like me, wears glasses, is in a wheelchair and goes by Dr. Harrison _Wells_?” he snapped.

Caitlin glanced at Barry and Cisco. This was not Dr. Wells. But...he'd never mentioned is family before, much less...a twin. The thought of a twin somehow seemed more likely than Dr. Wells figuring out how to walk again.

The twin dropped his hands, leaning against the table behind him.

“I'm so sorry,” Caitlin said, approaching him. “We didn't know Dr. … We didn't know that he had a twin. He doesn't really talk about himself much. What's your name?”

The man laughed.

“You know, it's weird. This is the first time someone's mistaken me for him. Usually it's the other way around,” the man said. “I'm Hansen. Hansen Morgan.” He held out his hand for Caitlin. When she shook, she noted the distinct callouses covering his firm hand. Not at all like the smooth palms of a scientist.

“What brings you to Star Labs, Hansen?” Caitlin asked. “Just Harrison?”

“It's...complicated,” Hansen said.

“It always is,” Harrison said, his voice lacking anything but a crisp, clear Midwest accent. He sat in the doorway, arms folded over his chest. “So, what is it this time?”

Hansen stared at his brother, a little horrified.

“Those glasses...” he breathed. “Rysen, I have to talk to you. In private.”

Harrison groaned. “You called me 'Rysen'. You only call me 'Rysen' when it's really bad. I mean, if it's Mom, just say it now.”

“It's... a lot of things,” Hansen said, pushing off the table. He picked up a briefcase off a desk. He strode out of the room, Harrison following.

“Okay, did either of you know about this?” Cisco asked. “Cuz if you did and forgot to tell me, I officially hate you.”

 

Harrison's home life had always been...complicated.

The face across the table from him was one he'd hit, seen in the mirror, watched every range of emotion play over it, and shaved. He knew it intimately in a way only the two of them would ever truly understand.

Hansen looked like he hadn't slept in a few days. His shoulders slouched just a little, still managing to lean against his chair heavily. His lopsided smile was nowhere to be found. And he didn't stare at Harrison as much as his eyes were glued to the wheelchair.

His brother was in a nice suit. Not nice enough for a funeral. But too nice for a construction meeting.

Harrison snapped his fingers. “Hey, my eyes are up here. Where are you working?”

“Life insurance,” Hansen said offhandedly. “I'm back in school – Hey, hold the phone. I'm first, you bastard.” Of course, the older brother always had to be first. Their father had only encouraged that idea. But that idea had in turn been Hansen's undoing. His burden in life.

“Where to start?” Hansen asked. “You're using Mom's name? I mean, it's not like I blame you.” Harrison rubbed his eyebrow. An easy question.

“I've been using it since I moved here,” Harrison said. “It's been...easier.”

The topic Harrison deeply wanted to avoid hung between them. Hansen had always been able to sense Harrison's weaknesses, latching onto them and cutting him deeply. But today was different. There were too many other things that needed to be said. To many things that would go unspoken if Hansen said her name.

“Tell me that you don't actually need that wheelchair,” Hansen said. “Please.”

“My 'science project' exploded,” Harrison said, disdain saturating every syllable of 'science project'. “And construction is supposed to be dangerous.”

“How long?” Hansen demanded. “Four years? Longer? God, Rysen, why didn't you tell me? I mean, it's called a phone. I wouldn't even know where to find you if I hadn't been watching the news. I mean, what the hell? I'm the screwup!”

The screwup who was finally making something of himself. Here he was, looking tired but well-fed. In clothes that didn't look like they'd been worn by other people before being hastily yanked off the rack at Goodwill. Going back to school after so long. He'd been taking care of their parents for years now – alone except for the cash wired to him from Harrison's account.

“I'm proud of you,” Harrison said.

“You've got a swanky lab and a Star Trek wheelchair. I'm not sure we're on even ground any more,” Hansen snorted. “Although, I'm not sure how you get science done with that ginger around.” Another one of their differences. Hansen's weakness was for red heads. Harrison had always preferred brunettes.

“It doesn't take a theoretical physicist to figure out that you're doing well for yourself,” Harrison said.

“Hey, I actually got that!” Hansen said. “I didn't realize that college was easy. I didn't know that I was smart. Well, not like you, but still.”

Harrison laughed. “You've always been intelligent. You just have a habit of making poor, emotionally charged decisions. What are you in school for?”

“Business,” Hansen said. “It could help me move up at work. But more likely I'll open a business. I mean, I'm good in sales and I can do math like never before. And with the money from Morgan Construction -”

Hansen's words cut off. For a moment, Harrison was torn. Hansen obviously had turned over a new leaf, but so often people reverted to their old ways. At the same time, it was the Christmas season, the strange time of year when Morgans dropped like flies.

“Dad died,” Hansen said. “Black Friday. I mean, I thought it would be Mom, but then Dad keels over. So I arranged the funeral. I had no way of getting a hold of you, and even if I invited you, I was sort of afraid you'd spit on his grave or something.”

“You were correct in that,” Harrison said, wishing he could dance. At least he'd retained the ability to piss without a tube. He'd have a shot of celebration later.

“And then at the funeral Mom just sort of...gave out,” Hansen said. “I kept her on ice.” He didn't add the obvious, _You were her favorite; you should be there when she'd buried_.

Harrison removed his glasses. The feelings were bittersweet. Like dark chocolate. Neither son could contest these things. Could refuse the concept of each parent loving one son yet being cold towards the other.

Rebecca Morgan had been a sturdy woman. Even when her beast of a husband was at his worst she stayed steadfast and loyal to him. And, in the end, it was her favorite who'd lived up to every hope and expectation she'd set for him. In the twilight of her life, her memory had been ripped to bits.

Harrison still recalled the moment of clarity when she'd begged him not to look at her any more – to leave while she still had memories of him. To leave while he still had good memories of her. Pretend she was dead. He'd grieved that first year. He didn't need to do so again.

“I don't want to keep Morgan Construction,” Harrison said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We'll have to hit up the insurance companies-”

“I'm way ahead of you, Rysen,” Hansen said. He set something on the table. Harrison opened his eyes, sliding his glasses on. Hansen was rifling through his briefcase. He pulled out several folders.

“Dad's insurance. His funeral arrangements and expenses. Morgan Construction's financials – well, just from the last year. Mom's insurance. Dad's insurance alone will cover the remaining hospital bills,” Hansen said. Harrison skimmed through it all. It was the complete opposite of the slob he'd grown up with. Well organized. Crisp. Sharp. Logical.

“This is...a lot,” Harrison said. “I could start a completely new lab with this. How did they get million dollar life insurance policies?"

“I work at a life insurance company,” Hansen said. “Dad thought it would be a good idea, and in her finer moments, Mom agreed. The company is being a pain about paying out since the policies were only in place for three years, but since I work there, it's sort of hard to pull one over me.”

Harrison leaned back.

“What about the house?” he asked.

“If you could take a week or two to help me sort through it,” Hansen said. “I don't even know what Dad stored in the basement, let alone what crap Mom has in the attic.”

“We'll have to do it in spring when we can pull it out into the yard to see what we're dealing with,” Harrison said. “I can take the time off."

Silence stretched between them. The waitress stopped by.

“How will the check be split?” she asked.

“One,” Hansen said. “Give it to me. If you give it to him, he will tip like crap.”

“I tip twenty percent!” Harrison said. “Twenty is more than reasonable in Central City.”

“I tip thirty,” Hansen said. “Because I'm not a stingy bastard.” The waitress pulled a receipt from her book, laying it by Hansen. He whipped out a blue card, having it ready for her. She took it away.

“Harrison Wells!” a man bellowed. He splashed a beer all over Hansen. “My wife died because your fucking accelerator knocked power out of the city.”

Hansen sputtered.

“Fuck, Harrison, does everyone in this city hate you?” Hansen asked, wiping his face off. Harrison turned, looking at the man. The man's face paled.

“There are two of you?” he asked.

“Actually, twins aren't as similar as everyone thinks,” Hansen said, standing up. He tried to soak up some of the beer with a napkin. “Our DNA may be the same, but twins don't have the same fingerprints. Harrison is taller than me by two inches. I'm stronger than he is. He went into wimpy nerdy stuff. I went into boxing and construction.”

“You're...you're Hansen Morgan,” the man said. “You're a lightweight champion.”

“Yeah, this is what happens when athletes get old,” Hansen said. The waitress stood to the side, card and slips in her hand. Hansen took them, pulling a hefty pen from his jacket. He signed the slip.

“A little something extra for the trouble,” he said. “Sorry about the mess. Apparently we can't go anywhere together and not get a drink splashed on one of us.”

“It's refreshing to not be on the receiving end of it for a change,” Harrison said, backing his chair up. “Come on, Ren, let's get you out of those clothes.”


	10. Thunderclap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While trying to come up with a name for a character, I came across another Marvel super hero. This was based off an old story (Greyhound) that was rebooted. This no longer follows the current story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Cisco, Caitlin, Harrison, AU, bad pun

Caitlin snapped her fingers.

“You thought of how to catch him?” Cisco asked. Dr. Wells sat a little straighter, expectant.

“I know your name,” she said. “You do something with your hands to make a sonic boom or something, right?”

“Something like that,” Dr. Wells admitted.

“Thunderclap,” Caitlin said. He groaned.

“Why do you keep infringing on Marvel's copyright?” he asked. “Although, can they sue us through a dimension?”


	11. Path Not Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: Barry wakes up from his coma without powers. Just medical problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Barry, Harrison, AU, alternate timeline, injury, suicidal thoughts

He could've sworn it was real.

The life he'd had. The powers. Even being married to Iris. And the _kids_ -

He pushed them from his mind. That was the worst part of the dream. Waking up and realizing that his children didn't exist. He could still feel the weight of his children in his arms. Hear their giggles as they dashed around the house, driving him and Iris crazy.

His powers. His love. His family. His friends. It was all taken from him the moment he woke. It was beyond heartbreaking. He literally had a hole in his heart now. The lightning hadn't given him powers. It had fried his nervous system, causing his left arm to be completely numb. He twitched and spasmed as though he had Parkinson's. And the legs he'd grown so proud of were paralyzed. Whether it was temporary or permanent remained to be seen.

The gazes of pity and pain were getting old. He wished they'd all stop. But they didn't. They kept twisting their eyes up as they looked at him. Like he was a freak. Like he was broken. A part of him wished he'd stayed in the coma. Or just wasted away. He didn't have the will to kill himself on his own. But lightning doing the deed for him would've been preferable.

“Bartholomew Allen?”

The voice was one from his coma. He looked over. Dr. Harrison Wells stood in the doorway, face somber. He didn't have the glint of pity. Instead, he had calculations swimming in those blue eyes.

“D-doctor w-w-wells,” Barry stuttered. He didn't want to try singing his words, despite it might actually helping. Dr. Wells strode across the room to stand beside Barry. It was strange being the invalid and he the standing one.

Dr. Wells took a chair.

“It's...come to my attention that you believe that...you had a different life,” he said. “That while in a coma, you experienced a dream of that life.”

“A-a-a l-life I'll-l never le-ead,” Barry said.

“You had super speed,” Dr. Wells said. “You were married to Iris. You lived in a yellow house with your three children-”

“H-how do you know?” Barry gasped. He'd told people that he'd lived a whole life during his coma, but he hadn't gone into detail.

“Because that was the life you were supposed to lead,” Dr. Wells said. “You see, Mr. Allen, someone is tampering with the time stream.” Barry had suspected in his dream that Harrison Wells was a time traveler, but he hadn't gotten any proof until now.

“W-what no-ow?” Barry asked. He tried to still the treamors in his arms. It increased the speed at which he rocked.

“I could switch the time stream back,” Dr. Wells said. “Or re-arrange things. It all depends on what you want.”

“W-what d-d-d-do you mea-an?” Barry asked.

“You could have the life you saw,” Dr. Wells said. “Unless you'd rather not have the power of speed at all. I might be able to arrange that.”

“I-I'm the-the-the Fl-flash,” Barry insisted.

“Are you willing to throw away the potential of this reality for the other one?” Dr. Wells asked. Barry nodded vigorously.

“I can't promise that you'll remember this,” Dr. Wells said. “I can't promise that things will be exactly the same. I can't promise that these repercussions will go away. I can only promise that you'll receive your powers. Do you still want them?”

Barry nodded. Dr. Wells stood.

“I'll see you on the other side, Mr. Allen,” Dr. Wells said. He walked out.

 

Barry opened his eyes.

He felt like he'd just been in a hospital, talking to his hero. He tried to recall what they'd been talking about. He sat up in the dark, blinking away spots.

“Welcome back, Mr. Allen,” Dr. Wells said. Barry jumped. Doctor Harrison Wells was sitting beside him. Barry looked around. He was in Star Labs.

“Oh. My. God,” Barry said. “You're Harrison Wells. I'm a huge fan.” Dr. Wells smiled.

“Well, Mr. Allen, you most certainly went a long way to meet me,” Dr. Wells said. “Do you know what happened to you?”

“Nope,” Barry said. “I had just come back from loosing my place in line to see the particle accelerator turn on when...I don't remember what happened.”


	12. Stealing Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hartley would like some candy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Hartley, Cisco, innuendo, small theft

Hartley tapped the edge of the computer, glaring at the screen.

He liked to take his lunch break at eleven, since he got to work an hour earlier than everyone else. It allowed him to work in silence while his coworkers milled about in the cafeteria or went out. It was rare indeed when someone had brought their lunch. He looked forward to getting things done. Of troubleshooting the difficult problems.

It had been years since he'd had candy. He didn't have much of a sweet tooth. And candy was so...childish. But today, he needed something sweet. He didn't like carbonation, and the vending machines didn't have juice. Some of the ladies kept chocolate bars stuffed in drawers. But Cisco-

Cisco kept candy all over his desk. It was like a little candy shop. On any other day, Hartley would've sneered at it. But today, he left his desk, looking it over. There was every sort of candy under the sun. Surely he wouldn't miss one piece. Besides, others seemed to take them freely.

Nestled between two tins was a lollipop. Hartley picked it up. Grape. Very nostalgic. It had been his favorite when he'd been a child. He unwrapped it, popping it in his mouth as he went back to his desk.

 

“Where is it?” Cisco demanded.

Hartley looked over. He'd been sure to have the lollipop gone by the time people started filing in from their lunch break. He'd been under the impression that people were welcome to one or two pieces. Perhaps that was only friends. Too bad.

“I want the lollipop theif to know: you had a used lollipop,” Cisco announced. He flopped down in his chair, fuming.

Hartley flushed. Not only had he taken Cisco's candy, it had already been licked. How could he not notice? He'd _put Cisco's lollipop in his mouth_.


	13. The truth is...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years in the future, Barry has a confession to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Barry/Iris, Barry, Iris, confession, DCU, April Fools

“I have something to tell you,” Barry said, grabbing Iris’ hands, holding them to his chest.

“I didn’t mean to keep this from you,” he said. “You know I love you, and that’s never going to change. I just – I need you to know something.”

Iris’ heart hammered in her chest. She knew it. He had super speed for crying out loud. Of course he could catch a little tail on the side from someone else. How could she be so stupid? Even if it was Barry, his drive had to be huge. There was no way she wasn't the only one, no matter how loyal Barry wanted to be. She could feel her eyes watering. Her mascara was going to be a mess. And what about the kids? What did she tell them?

“I’m Batman,” Barry said, contrite. Iris ripped her hands out of his.

“You’re also single,” she growled.

“April fools!” Barry laughed.


	14. Evacuation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get out of Central City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Joe, Barry, Iris, Iris/Barry, DCU

Joe broke through the door, panic on his face.

“Barry, the Keystone Power Plant is about to explode,” Joe gasped. “We have to evacuate immediately.”

Barry's heart clenched. First, get family out safe. Could Joe do that while Barry rushed people from the city? He reached for his duffel bag. His suit would save him road rash-

Henry and Junior popped out of the bag.

“April Fools!” they shrieked, fists high in the air.

"It's not even April any more!" Barry exclaimed, whirling on Joe. Iris stood beside her father with a grin that rivaled the cat that ate the canary.

“Take that, Batman,” Iris giggled.


	15. Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Barry, Cisco, Harrison, bad pun, halloween

"What are you going as for the Halloween party?" Barry asked, clapping Cisco on the shoulder.  
  
"Not sure," he admitted. "But I know what you're going as."  
  
"I'm not going as Mercury," Barry said. "Togas are off the table."  
  
"No, you're going as a Flashlight," Cisco giggled.  
  
"I thought he was going as a Flashdrive," Harrison chuckled. Barry rolled his eyes.  
  
"Please, guys. Obviously, I'm going as a Flasher," Barry said.

"No, no," Harrison said. "News Flash."


	16. Favorite Spoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cisco loses his favorite spoon...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Cisco/Caitlin, Cisco, Caitlin, bad pun

Caitlin flipped through the newspaper, trying to catch up on all the events going on in Central City. She glossed over Iris' latest on Barry, honing on on things like the upcoming election and the new play.  
  
Cisco dashed in, rifling quickly through his cabinets. Caitlin looked up, watching as he searched.  
  
"What are you looking for?" Caitlin asked. His kitchen was hardly full.  
  
"I lost it," Cisco said. "How could I lose it?"  
  
"Lose what?" Caitlin asked, rising to help.  
  
"My spoon," Cisco said, still panicked. Caitlin stopped.  
  
"Your spoon," she verified. Cisco nodded, looking up with his Bambi eyes. Caitlin pulled out the silverware drawer. It contained about twenty spoons.  
  
"No, not those," Cisco said. "It was my favorite spoon."  
  
"You have a favorite spoon?" Caitlin asked, a little incredulous.  
  
"You have a favorite brand of floss, and you have a favorite makeup brush," Cisco pointed out. "I am allowed to have a favorite little spoon." He had her there.  
  
Cisco pouted, looking dejectedly at the cutlery he had. He turned one over in his hand, put it back, and shut the drawer.  
  
"Maybe...we can go get you a new one," Caitlin said, putting an arm around him. He hugged her back.  
  
"Hey, Caitlin?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Will you be my new favorite spoon?"  
  



	17. Netflix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Snart siblings call on Cisco on Halloween....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Cisco/Lisa, Cisco, Lisa, Leonard, cold gun, bad pun, halloween

Cisco nearly choked when Lisa came into the bar. He knew that the days of having the Snarts in his life were long from over. But he hardly expected to see either of them just out in the open. Lisa was dressed as a sexy cop. He wondered if Leonard had seen her before she’d walked out the door. Or maybe he was powerless to stop his little sister.

“Ironic,” Cisco said. “Very…stereotypical.”

“Netflix. That’s an…interesting costume,” Lisa said, running a finger down the red cotton. Cisco flushed. He tried to imagine all the cops he worked around. Cold showers. Old people eating. Dead puppies.

“It’s…sort of incomplete,” Cisco said. “I’m missing Hulu and Amazon Prime.”

“Well, I hope they stay away,” Snart said. “Because we’re going to need your services again, Cisco.” Oh, that took away all attraction to Lisa.

Cisco turned. Snart was in his parka and had his gun. No costume for him. Not even on this most wonderful night of the year. Cisco realized something. He pulled his phone out.

“Hold on, could you take a picture of us?” Cisco asked, handing his phone over to Lisa. She pouted.

“You don’t want a picture with me?” she asked.

“Trust me, this is a lot nerdier,” Cisco said. He threw an arm around Snart. The older man must’ve been glaring at Cisco, but it was hard to tell with the shades in the way. The picture was taken and Lisa handed the phone back.

“Wanted a picture with your gun?” she asked.

“Netflix and chill."


	18. Cuddle Caper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who's going to broach the topic of cuddling with Mick Rory?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Shawna, Mark, Roy, Mick, Hartley, Rogues, cuddling

“You ask him,” Shawna giggled.  
  
“And be murdered?” Mark asked. “I’ve got powers, but that man doesn’t sleep. I’d like to.”  
  
“Roy, what about you?” Shawna asked. “You can make him calm after, right?”  
  
“Not yet,” Bivolo said. He shifted, clearly tired of the company around him. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to retreat to his studio. But he stayed, making an effort to be included.  
  
“You can always pop away,” Mark pointed out. “Why don’t you ask?”  
  
“But I want to watch,” Shawna said, pouting a little. It was no fun to do it herself when she could stand back and film it for later. Another potential victim walked in. She grabbed his arm, pulling him into the circle. Hartley gave her a tepid look.  
  
“Hartley, I will give you fifty bucks if you ask Mick if he likes to cuddle,” Shawna said. Mark broke out laughing. Even Bivolo cracked a smile.  
  
“And another fifty if you flirt,” Mark snickered.  
  
“Payment up front,” Hartley said. Shawna and Mark both forked over their money.  
  
As soon as Hartley’s money was put away, he ruffled his hair and undid his collar a little. It was the first time outside a firefight that Shawna had seen the Piper less than pristine. Hartley crossed the huge room and into the next where Mick sat, staring at the roaring fire.  
  
“Hey,” Hartley said, voice low and sultry. Mick didn’t look up. “What are you up to?”  
  
“It’s beautiful,” Mick said. Hartley sat close to him.  
  
“It is,” Hartley said. “It just makes me want to cuddle up to a big strong man on such a cold day.” Mick hummed as if in agreement.  
  
“Do…you cuddle?” Hartley asked. He leaned in, staring intently at Mick.  
  
“Are you sure you want to ask me that?” Mick growled, not looking away from the fire. Hartley trailed a finger over Mick’s bicep.  
  
“Oh, I think I do.”  
  
  
"It's not that this wasn't a possibility, I just didn't think it would actually happen," Shawna said, gaping at the scene.  
  
"Hartley seems...pleased," Mark grumbled.  
  
Mick had adjusted the couch so that it sat in front of the fireplace. He'd then proceeded to wrap himself around Hartely. After Hartley had recovered from his initial shock, he'd smirked over Mick's shoulder at the trio before burying his face in the pyro's chest.  
  
"He got paid to cuddle," Mark growled. "I was hoping he'd get his face pounded in."  
  
"That's still a possibility," Shawna said.  
  
  
"So you're gunna pay me half of what they paid you, right?" Mick asked, keeping his voice low.  
  
"Of course," Hartley whispered. "I don't think those idiots realize how much sound carries in this house."  
  
"How much did they pay?" Mick asked.  
  
"Only a hundred. Bivolo didn't chip in," Hartley said.  
  
"Fifty bucks to cuddle, not bad," Mick said.  
  
"Should I be flattered?" Hartley asked dryly.  
  
Mick shrugged. "Only if you want to be."


	19. Bow and Arrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a little something I thought would be perfect in the Flash-Arrow crossover with Captain Boomerang. That is, if Felicity messed up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen, Cisco Ramon, fight and make up

"What was that, Felicity?" Oliver raged, tossing his bow onto the table. "We could've been killed out there."  
  
"I was doing my best-," Felicity said.  
  
"Do better," Oliver growled.  
  
"Yeah, and what about you and your toothpick launcher?" Felicity demanded. Barry stepped between them. Oliver gave Barry a warning look. The speedster didn't move.  
  
"I think we're all tired and need some time to cool off. Harkness is the one who pulled a fast one on us," Barry pointed out. "Let's all take some time for dinner. Take a rest."  
  
  
"Is he always so high-strung?" Cisco asked.  
  
"Not always, just on nights when lives are on the line," Felicity said. "I know I screwed up, but I think my friends nearly getting blown up by _boom_ erangs is more than enough punishment." Cisco snorted into his drink.  
  
"But the team is okay, right?" Caitlin asked.  
  
"They'll be mad about it for a while and then one of them will do something cute," Roy said. "And the other won't be able to be mad. Or Dig or I will have to get pissed with Oliver and knock some sense into him."  
  
"Or the two of us will get mad at the same target and become united again," Felicity said. She shrugged, rubbing the back of her neck.  
  
  
Cisco zipped up his pants. When he turned, he came face to face with Oliver Queen.  
  
"I totally didn't hit on your sister," Cisco said. He almost wanted to pray to god.  
  
"I'm not here about that," Oliver said. Cisco glanced at the other urinals. Some were occupied. Guys were giving them weird looks. Cisco slipped past Oliver to the sinks.  
  
"So what is this about?" Cisco asked, grabbing some soap. "Don't tell me you came into the bathroom to watch me do my thing."  
  
"I need your help," Oliver said. "I need to to build something for me. I-I tried doing it myself. All I did was make a mess."  
  
"What is it you need me to build?" Cisco asked.  
  
  
Felicity rubbed her temples. She had to find Harkness.  
  
"I'm sorry," Oliver said. Felicity jumped.  
  
"Ohmigod," Felicity choked. "Oliver, how many times have I told you not to sneak up on me?"  
  
"Too many to count," he said, leaning against the desk. "I'm sorry for getting mad at you. You...have to stay here behind this desk while we go out there. It's nerve wracking to know that your friends are in danger and that they count on you. It's unfair of me to be angry when you are doing everything you can.  
  
"I don't know where we'd be without our Felicity Smoak," Oliver said. He pulled out a little box, sliding it towards her.  
  
Felicity lifted the lid. Inside was a little black crossbow. It was doll sized. Next to it was a box of matches and a box of toothpicks.  
  
"A matchstick launcher," Felicity laughed. "Feeling a little sore about that?"  
  
"I use a bow and arrow," Oliver said. "This is a matchstick launcher. They are two very different things." Felicity stood, pulling Oliver into a hug.


	20. Cold Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little kiss for Hartley
> 
> Tags: Hartley/Snart, Hartley, Snart, kiss, candy, drinking

It was strange how all the reasons you could come to love someone were the very reasons you came to hate them. Or at least strong dislike.

Leonard was smart, confident, and cool. But after a few weeks of living together, Hartley found these things grating on him. Intelligence had turned to pretentiousness; confidence to arrogance; and coolness to distance.

It wasn't like Hartley wanted to be cuddled every moment of the day. If that were the case, he'd probably take the cold gun to his head. But he did want a little affection every now and again. A gentle brush of a hand as Snart walked by. A kiss of affection in the morning, however hasty.

Hartley popped another candy. He wasn't really the sort who had candy, but he also wasn't the sort who drank volka, either. He had no mixers or chasers, so he was forced to drink the bottom shelf crap straight. The mints helped it go down a little easier.

"Drinking?" Snart asked, sliding down onto the couch next to Hartley.

"Your powers of observation are overwhelming," Hartley said. "Tell me what helped you to this conclusion?"

Snart lifted the bottle out of Hartley's hands and took a swig. He grimaced at the bottle. He looked up at Hartley.

"What would drive you to drink something so noxious?" he asked.

"A heartless man," Hartley said. Snart's finger traced the rim of the bottle ever so gently.

"He should be ashamed of himself, making such a beautiful creature like you so sad," Snart said, putting his hand on Hartley's face. He drew Hartley in, kissing him. Hartley felt like he was made of the finest crystal. Something to be cherished, but ever so fragile.

When they parted, Hartley realized why Snart had been so warm.

"You stole my mint!" Hartley gasped.


	21. Wrath of Savitar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> headcannon; Major Character Death; possible spoilers; Savitar; Savitar's identity; Barry Allen; Iris West; Eddie Thawne; tragedy; speculation; MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH; POSSIBLE SPOILERS

"No. Don't do this," Barry said, taking slow steps so not to hasten Savitar's hand.

"Barry, it's gunna be okay," Iris choked, trying to smile. She was being too brave - for him. This wasn't going to happen. Not again. Not like this.

"You took everything from me," Savitar accused. "Now I'll take everything from you." And then it hit him. He did know Savitar. He'd taken his job. Taken his act of heroism. Taken the love of his life. But had he really been dead, or had they all just assumed it because he was eaten by a singularity? Ripped across time and space.

"Eddie!" Barry bellowed. Savitar's hand stilled.

"Edward Thawne is dead," Savitar raged. "I. Am. Savitar." Barry couldn't move his feet fast enough. Couldn't summon enough of the speed force. He was helpless to watch Iris die in what felt like a thousand lifetimes. He was helpless to watch in slow motion as the love of his life began to fall, lifeless. Barry barely arrived in time to catch her.

"Iris," Barry whimpered, pressing his face into her still-warm neck. "Iris, you can't- you can't leave me."

'Wrath of Savitar'. He should watch for the Wrath of the Scarlet Speedster.

 


	22. Haunted Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick Rory; Leonard Snart; headcanon; speculation; Savitar; MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something didn't feel right about Mick's hallucination.

Barry could throw him into a bottomless pit, burn him with the power of a thousand suns, spread him across time and space. But none of it would stop his wrath. The wrath of Savitar.

He could hear the shrieks of rage and despair. The clawing animal of grief that even an ocean of alcohol would not sate. Even here in the time stream, there were plenty of souls who longed for long forgotten loved ones.

 

"Playing the good guy really isn't your style," Leonard said. "You really should stop. Preferably before you get killed."

Mick shoveled more chips into his mouth. Maybe if he ignored this damn hallucination, it would go away. He'd had worse torture than a nag with the time masters. The worst part of this was that the chips weren't sitting right in his stomach. Did chips go bad? He was certain with all the fake crap in them that they wouldn't.

"You know, I'm not really dead," Leonard said. "And I can't keep this up long, Mick. You have to have my back. You're the only one who can."

"I saw you die," Mick growled.

"You saw my blood and guts get spread across the room? Or did you see a pretty light?" Leonard asked. "The oculus was a machine that was designed to see through the whole of human history. What happens when the time it's holding spills out?"

Mick closed his eyes. Beautiful women with their breasts spilling out their tops. Those little shorts that drove him wild - the ones that let the ass cheeks hang out. Beer to his heart's content. Anything to distract him from the idea that his partner was spread thin like butter across time and space.

"How did you gather up enough energy to bring yourself to me?" Mick asked. "How did you have enough presence of mind to get here?"

"Don't know, don't care," Len snapped. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"What do I have to do?" Mick grunted.

"I need you to track down a box," Leonard said. "It's a special box. It contains something that will help you get me back. It's magic or some shit."

Mick pushed the chips aside. "Where is it?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something also didn't feel right about Laurel at the end of Arrow's midseason break. So he could bring back Savitar, too. But I think Mick is more likely at the moment.


	23. Happy Little Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick Rory, Roy G Bivolo, Leonard Snart, painting

"What's that supposed to be?" Mick asked, leaning over the canvas. He tended not to hang around the other team members unless alcohol was involved. Roy hesitated with a scathing remark. Hartley and Mark had both gotten dark bruises after particularly heinous comments about Mick.

"It's my base for a forest scene," Roy explained. "I'll add a mountain back there and slowly move forward until I come to the foreground where all the trees are."

Mick chuckled. "I used to paint."

"You did?" Roy asked. He didn't doubt the creativity - Roy had met many talented artists who didn't seem like artists on the surface. It was more because of all the time and patience that had to be gleaned through so many mediums. Mick had never really demonstrated much patience. And what exactly did Mick paint that caused such a dark chuckle?

"Lots of happy little trees," Mick laughed. He took a drink from his beer.

"Do you have any?" Roy asked. He couldn't help himself. It was a trainwreck happening in slow motion. He couldn't stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

"I think I have one or two in my room," Mick said. "C'mon." Roy followed him to the tiny warehouse room that Mick had taken over. It smelled like a jock strap and rotten fruit in there. Mick pushed aside a small mountain of clothes and picked up a canvas.

The technique was soft. Mick was absolutely a student of Bob Ross. The only problem was the fact that it was a wasteland. A burned, desiccated wasteland of tree stumps.

"Aren't they beautiful?" Mick asked. "Happy little trees."

Roy backed out of the room and ran down the hallway, not daring to look back.

 

"Mick, what did you do to Roy?" Leonard growled, slamming his cold gun down on the table.

"I showed him my happy little trees," Mick grinned. "He got a real kick out of them."

"Mick, I told you not to show anyone that," Leonard snapped, hanging his head.

"Don't worry, Picasso, your secret's safe with me," Mick chuckled. "Next birthday I want one with the trees actively on fire."


	24. Black Canary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen(past) ; Laurel Lance; Oliver Queen; Thea Queen; Felicity Smoak; headcanon; speculation; felicity inner babble; implied sexual content

“Laurel,” Oliver breathed.

“Hi, Ollie,” Laurel smirked. She sauntered over to him, pressing her long hands against his chest, as corporeal as they could be. She smelled of a light floral soap. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“You’re dead,” Oliver protested. She pressed a finger to his lips.

“I never died,” she cooed, tracing his lower lip. “You smell like sex.”

"I-I-,” Oliver sputtered. Laurel was alive? The Lazarus Pit had been destroyed. How could she be here, accusing him of having sex with someone else? “I’m having a seizure. I have a brain tumor. I-I-I need to call Star Labs and get Caitlin to look at my brain.”

“Ollie,” Laurel snapped, grabbing his face firmly between her hands. “I’m _real_. I’m _alive_.”

He pressed his face into her neck, inhaling. She smelled mostly like herself underneath the soap and fabric softener. She had traces of cleaning agents on her skin. She’d probably hidden out at a hospital.

He relaxed into her. It was almost like melting. She shifted, pulling him towards the little loveseat. They curled there, and Oliver fell asleep in her arms.

 

“If the Lazarus Pit was destroyed, how are you alive?” Thea asked, eyes slits. Felicity would’ve asked the same question if she wasn’t too busy trying to pull her jaw off the floor.

"You didn’t actually see me die, right?” Laurel asked. “What, I can’t fake my death?”

“Generally when we fake our own deaths, we let someone in on it,” Felicity pointed out. “Roy made sure the rest of us were in on it. And don’t give me that whole ‘I couldn’t tell you because you’re terrible liars’ crap because that’s bull-whooey and you know it.”

“It was more like ‘I couldn’t tell you because I didn’t have time’,” Laurel said. “I’ve been hiding out because…well, how do you come back to life after _someone_ revealed your secret identity to the world?” She gave Oliver a light jab to the arm and gave him a flirty smirk. Well that was…new. Oliver didn’t respond, only stared at her like she was an alien from another planet. No, he’d already seen those before. Uh, like she was from another universe. No, no, he knew Kara. Well, like he was a normal person and was seeing a ghost.

“What have you been doing since you faked your death?” Thea asked. “We could’ve really used your help.”

“Well, at first I laid low because I almost died for real,” Laurel explained. “That was…pretty intense. I was about to tell Oliver when he spilled the beans about me. So I laid low. I kept training. And then, something really weird happened. Something kind of exciting.”

“What?” Felicity asked.

“I found out that I’m a meta-human,” Laurel said. “That’s the only explanation.”

“You weren’t in Central City when the particle accelerator exploded,” Thea pointed out.

“I was on my way there, though,” Laurel reminded her. “I was there the next day. I must’ve been exposed in just in time to make the cutoff. And, trust me, my powers are _amazing_.”

 

It wasn’t right. It just…didn’t fit.

There was no reason for Laurel to fake her death, even with Dahrk still on the loose. There was no reason for her to hide for so long. And Caitlin had sworn up and down that there was no way for someone who hadn’t been in Central City the day of the explosion to have powers.

Then there were all the little things. Laurel forgetting team traditions. Her suddenly not knowing how to box, but knowing two other martial arts that she didn’t have names for. Her avoidance of wanting to tell them who’d helped her escape death. Forgetting obvious things like Malcolm being Thea’s father or how Sara was alive and off time traveling.

“Ugh, the computer won’t let me in,” Laurel growled. Thea leaned over, entering the correct password.

“Thanks,” Laurel sighed. “I forgot so much in six months.”

“I know how it is,” Thea said. “When my mom died, I felt like I forgot everything all the time. But I’m not as bad as Oliver. Most of the time, I’m reminding him of all the things she used to do.” Although, how someone forgot a password as easy as I<3StarWars was beyond Thea.

Laurel immediately began looking up news reports. It didn’t seem like anything in particular. Just general things.

“You hate the news,” Thea said. Laurel's exact words were 'it's too depressing'.

“When you’re trapped alone for months on end, any news is better than depressing news,” Laurel said. “It was nice to see you guys. But it was torture not knowing the details. Guess I’m a glutton for punishment.”

“Speaking of,” Thea said. “Is that why you’re going after Oliver again?”

“What do you mean?” Laurel asked.

“You and Oliver both agreed not to go down that road again,” Thea reminded her.

“After I was ‘dead’, I realized that I wanted Ollie. Ollie was the best thing that ever happened to me. He was my first love. And he’ll be my last love,” Laurel said. “That’s actually how I figured out that I had powers. I really thought I’d never see you guys again. But it was the thought of never seeing Ollie again that really did it.”

Thea hugged Laurel, pressing her face into Laurel’s hair. Beneath her scents, she had the smell of Star Labs on her still. Thea pulled away.

“What was that for?” Laurel asked.

"I just missed you, too,” Thea said, wiping a tear away from one eye. Laurel only sometimes told the truth. But most of the time she was lying. Star Labs would have some answers.

 

“Barry, you have to stop breaking into my place,” Oliver snapped. He nearly threw an arrow at Barry for old times’ sake. But helping Laurel train with her powers had been trying to say the least. A shower and a beer sounded like heaven.

“I noticed you have a new Black Canary on your team,” Barry said. “She’s a bit more destructive than Laurel was. I was wondering if she was going to help you get Dig out of prison, or if you wanted me to tag along, too.”

Oliver groaned and reached into the cabinet for the volka. He poured himself a glass. “I don’t know. You have your own city to defend. But…maybe help with her training? Meta-humans aren’t really my speed.”

Barry grinned. “They’re not your speed, huh.”

“Stop that,” Oliver grouched, taking a deep drink of the volka so he wouldn’t smile.

“Who is she? I mean, she fits Laurel’s costume like a glove. Cisco’s words, not mine,” Barry said.

“She’s…Laurel,” Oliver said. “She faked her death, Barry. And, somehow, she’s a meta-human. Her powers activated while she was in hiding.”

"She hid from all of you for nine months?” Barry asked, suddenly suspicious. “No little notes in her handwriting stuffed in your mailbox? No calling from a public phone then hanging up? Dahrk died. Why did she have to hide from you guys?”

“This is backwards,” Oliver grunted. “I’m the distrustful one and you’re the one who trusts blindly.”

“Well, like, how much has she changed?” Barry pressed. “Like, she’s not murdering people or anything, right?”

“The opposite,” Oliver snorted. “She may be more destructive, but she doesn’t let people get hurt. She’s very careful about that. She’s changed but…I think she sees this as a new start. She gets to be someone new. Someone even better than the person she was before.” Oliver realized something.

“Why are your panties up in a bunch about this?” Oliver asked. “You like Laurel.”

“I like Laurel Lance, Black Canary from this universe. I don’t like Dinah Lance, Black Siren from Earth-2,” Barry said. He opened his mouth to say something else. Oliver held up a hand, silencing the scarlet speedster. Oliver finished his volka, poured another, drank that, then motioned for Barry to continue.

“That’s…a lot of volka,” Barry whispered. “Like, not for me. But for a normal person.”

“That’s a moderate amount for a man my size and tolerance,” Oliver assured him. “What’s this about ‘Black Siren’?”

 

Cooped up in the ‘Arrowcave’ was much easier than the little cell she’d escaped from. Everything was almost effortless with Oliver. Oliver here. _Alive_.

Well, almost effortless. There was still so much that she didn’t know about Laurel and her life. Like Quentin Lance. Her father back on her own earth had died of alcohol poisoning shortly after Sara’s death. Dinah often didn’t know how to treat him when she visited him in the rehab center.

She often messed up with Thea. Thea hadn’t existed on her earth. Malcolm Merlyn’s family had consisted of Tommy and his wife. Thea treated ‘Laurel’ like a big sister. It had been so long since Dinah had been a big sister. And the dynamic was different here. Laurel and Thea sparred often for training purposes.

“Dinah…Laurel…Lance,” Oliver said, drawing out her name. Dinah nearly jumped out of her skin at her name. No one here called her by her real name.

“Gosh, Ollie,” she panted. “I didn’t hear you come in.” There was his face. Chiseled and more mature than the straight-laced workaholic she’d come to love. Although, Ollie on her earth wouldn’t let the press know, but he partied hard whenever he got the chance.

This was how it should’ve been for her. Robert should’ve died. Ollie should’ve been the one to come home to Starling City to become the Arrow. The two of them could’ve had a chance to be together. No Zoom. No meta-human turf wars. No killing to survive.

“We decided that you could stay as long as you don’t hurt anyone,” Ollie said.

“What?” Dinah asked. Had they had a conversation about this earlier? He’d been going back to his apartment, but not to meet anyone, right?

“I just wanted you to know that before I tell you that I know,” Ollie said, his eyes a little distant. Like she was a stranger. “You’re Dinah Lance, the Black Siren.”

 _The Flash_ , Dinah realized. He’d figured out that the Black Canary wasn’t the real Laurel Lance. How? How did he even know who the Black Canary was? The team hadn’t mentioned that they knew anyone from Central City.

“I’m not going back,” Dinah hissed, grabbing Ollie’s shirt. “I’m _not_ leaving you.”

“We decided that you could stay as long as you don’t hurt anyone,” Ollie repeated, covering her hands with his own. But it didn’t feel like he was being intimate. More like he was two seconds from pulling her off him.

“Where would I go if I were dangerous?” Dinah asked.

“Back to your home,” Ollie said. “With Zoom gone, maybe you could have a normal life. Find someone. Fall in love.”

“He’s dead on my earth,” Dinah said, holding back tears. “You’re just like him. No-nonsense. Strong. You care about people. You care about me. You may not be him, but you’re as close as I will ever get in my lifetime. Maybe…maybe I can do more than just stay here?”

Ollie hesitated. “I’m going to have to think about that. Until then, maybe we can sort a few things out.”

"Like what?” Dinah asked, still not loosening her grip.

“Well, we can’t keep calling you ‘Laurel’. You’re not her,” Ollie said. “And you can’t keep calling me ‘Ollie’ all the time. I’m not him.”

They talked, deciding first on frivolous things like names and costumes. And then they moved on to more practical things like Dinah’s skillset; how she’d fit into the team; where she was going to live; and what she’d do with her time if she couldn’t really go outside often.

Somewhere along the way, she’d let go of Oliver’s shirt. Others had shown up, already informed about who Dinah really was. Food had been ordered at some point. And then they started telling stories about their lives, filling each other in about who they were. All the little details Dinah hadn’t been able to figure out on her own came out, and she was surprised to know that she wasn’t the only one who carried sins on her shoulders.

 

Six months later…

“You knew from the start,” Dinah accused, raising an eyebrow at Thea.

“Knew what from the start? That he was the Vigilante?” Thea asked. “Or Prometheus? Because I didn’t know either of them.”

“No. That I wasn’t Laurel,” Dinah said. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well, on the one hand, you had lies and truth mixed together pretty well,” Thea said. “It was hard to tell why you’d lie about simple things. Part of why I didn’t say anything was because I thought you needed some time to deal with whatever you were hiding.”

“And the other part?” Dinah asked. Thea stopped her and looked into her eyes. They were every bit as fiercely serious as Oliver’s always were.

“Because a part of you really is the Black Canary. Maybe you didn’t know it at first. Maybe you were only pretending. But whether you knew she was there or not, you are the Black Canary.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you see the latest Arrow trailer? I CALLED IT. Well, the whole part about the Laurel we see not being the real Laurel. She could be Black Siren. She might not.


	25. The Legend of Leonard Snart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Leonard Snart, Mick Rory, Legends of Tomorrow; Rip Hunter, Sara Lance, Jefferson Jackson, Donovan Allen-West, pajamas, blueberry pancakes, cussing, AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the last of All My Science is Wrong. I’ll be writing another drabble series soon enough. I just want to publish them under a new title, you know? Hope you guys have liked this series. Let me know in the comments if you’d like to see any themes in my next drabble series. I’ll put them on a list for after I finish the All My Science is Sexy smut series. (Another smut series to…come shortly.)

Sara knew the feeling of a timejump. Who wouldn’t when one woke her in her sleep?

“Giddeon, why did we jump?” Sara snapped, jumping out of bed. She grabbed her staff on the way out, ready for time pirates. The hallways were empty.

“You’ll have to ask Mr. Rory about that,” Giddeon said. “As for when, we’re at the Vanishing Point.”

Sara slowed. Two weeks since Leonard died, and Mick hadn’t quite gotten over it. Rip stumbled into the hallway, rubbing his eyes, pistol at the ready. He was still in his pajamas – a space background with little blue telephone boxes.

“I think we can let him have a bit with his friend,” Rip sighed, holstering the laser gun. “Wake me if something explodes.”

“Nice jim-jams,” Sara giggled. Rip flushed and made his pace back to his quarters brisker.

 

Jax stuffed his mouth with more pancakes.

“Are there any extra?” a little boy asked, hopping up onto the barstool next to Jax like he was a forty-something alcoholic. “I’m starving.”

“Whoa, kid, how’d you get onboard?” Jax asked.

“Jax,” the kid said, his eyes half-lidding in a familiar way. “It’s me.”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen you before in my life,” Jax said.

“The Professor will explain this time bullshit,” the kid grouched. Jax’s mouth popped open. Who taught a kid how to swear like that? “Mick! I need help making pancakes.” Mick sauntered in, rubbing his face. Oh, that’s who.

“I’m coming, geesh,” Mick groaned. “Len, you’ve got more energy than me. Blueberry pancakes, right?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Leonard said. Jax took a second look at the kid. He was twisting a little silver ring on his thumb – and his thumb was still too small for the ring. He had an icy stare. The way he’d yelled for Mick.

“OH MY GOD!” Jax yelled. Leonard twinged, covering his ears.

“I don’t remember things being this loud,” Leonard complained.

 

“It seems Mr. Snart has been exposed to chrono-radiation. In the case of Mr. Jackson, it was gamma-type chrono-radiation. In Mr. Snart’s case, it was alpha-type. In laymen’s terms, it’s far less damaging to his body, and it can only age or de-age someone a set amount of time,” Giddeon explained.

“Is there anything we can do to undo this?” Rip asked.

“I am unsure at present,” Giddeon replied. “I will have to run simulations. If Dr. Stein could be of assistance, he could suggest situations that I am not capable of imagining.”

“Is it really such a bad thing?” Leonard asked, hopping off the chair. “You guys could pop me right back in twenty-sixteen. I could go live with Lisa as her son. Go to school. Have a new life. A different life. And if you’re all still knocking around in this rust bucket by the time I hit puberty, I can join you all.”

“You can’t be serious,” Mick growled. “We’re partners.”

“You can’t be partners with a kid, Mick,” Leonard snapped. “My dad tried that. Look how he ended up. And what will we do if Giddeon and Stein can’t age me forward faster? And it won’t be long for you. All you guys have to do is pop to twenty-twenty-six. I’m the one who has to live ten years forward.”

Mick’s fist shook. He turned and punched the wall. Leonard waited for Mick to expend his frustration before coming up behind him and hugging the man’s leg. Mick picked Leonard up and hugged him tight.

 

Lisa stroked Leonard’s hair. She pressed a kiss right into his part.

“So, I guess I’m a single mom?” she asked.

“Something like that,” Leonard said. “Oh, Mick, I need to talk to you.” He led Mick all the way across the room so no one could hear them.

“We’re partners. So I’ll be back,” Snart said. He held out his pinky ring. “But it’s ten years between now and when you’ll pick me up. I don’t want to lose this, so you’ll have to take it to me in the future.”

“Keep it. It’ll remind you who you really are,” Mick said.

“I know who I am,” Snart snapped. “I’m a Legend. You, however, might not come for me. But I know you. You’ll want to reunite me with my ring. So you’ll come for me, if only for just that moment.”

Mick held out a hand. Leonard dropped the ring into the giant palm.

“So…school,” Mick said.

“School. Using a thirty-year old thief’s techniques to rob people blind,” Leonard said, holding up a woman’s billfold. It had a lot of gold.

“You stole Lisa’s wallet?” Mick snorted. Leonard held up a gold phone. Mick snickered harder.

“LEN!” Lisa bellowed.

“Women will melt for this face,” Leonard said, batting his eyelashes. “Taking their wallets will be cake. I’ll be fine, Mick. Make sure Ray takes care of himself. And his haircut.” Mick pulled Leonard in close, fighting tears.

“Gotcher wallet,” Leonard whispered.

 

Ten years later…

 

Len leaned up against the new Star Labs facility. Barry couldn’t keep it as an abandoned parking lot forever. But he’d done his damndest to keep a large, empty Waverider-sized space just for Len.

“Dude, you can’t spend every afternoon here,” Donnie groaned. “Come to the mall with us.”

“And watch you and Dawn eat more than your dad? No thanks,” Len snorted. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“I’ll let you steal the wallet of someone really rich,” Donnie suggested.

“I’m good,” Len said. He checked his watch. Late, as always. You’d think time travelers would be more on time. But things could never be that simple.

“What exactly are you waiting for? Are you going to rob that jewelry store from here?” Donnie asked.

“I’m not robbing anyone today,” Len growled. “He’s _late_.”

“You have a boyfriend? That’s super cute,” Donnie gasped, 100% serious. “What’s his name?”

“He’s my business associate,” Len said. “And what does a toddler know about sexuality?”

“Think of it like a dog. I have a different growth cycle than a normal human,” Donnie said. “I may be six, but I’m a teenager physically and mentally. And dad’s still going to make me wait until I’m sixteen till I can date. I’ll be _so old_. I’ll have to wait _forever_.”

Ten years until one became sixteen. It did feel like forever for an adult mind. But it was a do-over Leonard had never once dared to hope for. A mother who loved him with all her heart. A father (figure) who tried to teach him how to be a man. Learning more about math and science – things he actually had some talent for. He never would’ve known if he hadn’t been so well-rested from not pulling another heist for his father.

Maybe Mick had talked to Barry and decided against picking him up. Decided that Len should finish high school and go to college. Get a real job – not just trying to pull heists under Barry’s nose. Maybe become Citizen Cold, protector of Central City.

Len checked his watch one more time. Mick was never this late.

“What the hell is that?” Donnie gasped. Len searched the clear blue sky for the Waverider. That old rust bucket was free-falling right at them.

“Don’t worry, it’s just Ray at the controls,” Len sighed. The Waverider righted itself, no longer tumbling. It started to slow its decent. “And that’s Rip taking over.”

The Waverider touched down. The cargo bay started opening. Len started towards it.

“Dude, a _spaceship_ falls from the sky and you’re going _towards_ the aliens?” Donnie asked, easily keeping up with Len’s pace.

“That’s not nice. Just because they’re a little weird doesn’t mean they’re not human,” Len teased. “I’m afraid you’re still a little too young for this ride, kid. I’ll drop you a line in ten years, see if you want to come along. Tell your dad thanks for all the dinners.”

“Are you coming or not, Snart?” Mick called.

“Wait, that’s Mick Rory,” Donnie realized. “He’s one of the Legends. How do you know him?”

“Because I’m one, too,” Len said. He pat Donnie on the shoulder once more before boarding. He held his hand out for the ring. Mick passed it to him. Immediately Len tossed it at the speedster. Donnie caught it, probably more of a reaction than actually knowing that Len was throwing something at him.

“Hold onto that,” Len said. “I’ll be back in ten years for it.”


End file.
